ears. It is true he did not
understand himself how the umbrella came to be where he had found it; he
was surprised at first, but had not thought any more about it, and had
hung it on a nail in his room, so that if the owner asked for it he
could have it at once, though it was not really worth sixpence.

But the day's events were not yet done. Toward evening the news spread
that the wife of the miller, the village nabob, had been drowned in the
Bjela Voda, which was very swollen from the amount of rain that had
fallen. The unfortunate woman had crossed the stepping-stones in order
to bring back her geese, which had strayed to the other side. She had
brought back two of them, one under each arm, but as she was re-crossing
to fetch the third, her foot slipped, and she fell into the stream. In
the morning there had been so little water there, that a goat could have
drank it all in half a minute, and by midday it was swollen to such an
extent that the poor woman was drowned in it. They looked for her the
whole afternoon in the cellar, in the loft, everywhere they could think
of, until in the evening her body was taken out of the water near
Lehota. There some people recognized her, and a man was sent over on
horseback to tell Mihaly Gongoly of the accident. All this caused great
excitement in the village, and the people stood about in groups, talking
of the event.

"Yes, God takes the rich ones too," they said.

Gyoergy Klincsok came running in to the priest.

"There will be a grand funeral the day after to-morrow," he exclaimed.

The sacristan appeared at the schoolmaster's in the hope of a glass of
brandy to celebrate the event.

"Collect your thoughts," he exclaimed, "there will be a grand funeral,
and they will expect some grand verses."

Two days later the funeral took place, and it was a long time since
anything so splendid had been seen in Glogova. Mr. Gongoly had sent for
the priest from Lehota too, for, as he said, why should not his wife
have two priests to read the burial service over her. He sent all the
way to Besztercebanya for the coffin, and they took the wooden cross
that was to be put at the head of the grave to Kopanyik to have it
painted black, with the name and the date of her death in white letters.

There were crowds of people at the funeral in spite of the bad weather,
and just as the priest was starting in full canonicals, with all the
little choir-boys in their clean surplices, it began to p